


cold December night

by pensgame



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas Party, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, No Angst, Nursey POV, a happy fic tho!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8907289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensgame/pseuds/pensgame
Summary: Nursey goes with Dex to a terrible Christmas party.





	

“Why didn’t you tell me that this was an ugly sweater party?” Derek asks Dex. “We could’ve dressed for the occasion.”

Derek’s sweater is bright green and has a snowman on it, but probably falls more into the category of _kitschy_ than truly _ugly_. Dex is wearing a red cable-knit sweater with prancing reindeer on it. It’s a little dorky and it clashes spectacularly with his red hair, but compared to all the ridiculous sweaters around them, it looks almost tame.

Dex sputters a little bit and nearly spits out his drink. “It’s not an ugly sweater party,” he says, wiping his mouth on the back of his mouth. It’s the kind of motion that Derek should find gross- probably did before he started dating Dex- but Dex is really cute, so Derek doesn’t really mind.

“It’s _not_ an ugly sweater party?” Derek asks, with a pointed look around the room. At least three of the other party-goers are wearing sweaters with real bells on them, which surely has to be intentional.

“It’s not,” Dex confirms. He looks a little embarrassed. “I already made the mistake of asking Agatha”- he gestures at a woman wearing a frilly green sweater that may actually be bedecked with real, working Christmas lights- “where she got her ‘ugly sweater.’”

“I’m guessing she didn’t take kindly to that?” Derek asks, watching as the woman turns around and reveals the other side of the sweater, which seems to portray a herd of reindeer that is definitely flashing. It’s a little painful to watch, so Derek turns his gaze back to Dex.

“She did not,” Dex says, and his cheeks flush slightly pink as he chuckles.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked out.”

“Wish I had,” Dex says with a sigh, and he looks so hilariously pitiful that Derek can’t help but laugh.

“We may be the only guests here under 50,” Derek says. “Good thing you asked me to come with you. There’s safety in numbers.”

“Yes, 50 year olds are very dangerous,” Dex says, in a mock-serious tone. “I don’t know if we’d be able to survive separately.”

Derek snickers a little even though Dex isn’t very funny. “What else should I expect at this party? You promised a night full of food and entertainment.”

“I believe my exact words were ‘Please come with me to my homophobic boss’ Christmas party so I don’t die of boredom,’” Dex says, which Derek ignores.

“The food and entertainment part were implied,” he says. “We’ve already got the entertainment-”

“We do?” Dex asks, staring around at the other guests, all of whom look dreadfully boring and who are already engrossed in conversation, leaving Derek and Dex out completely.

“Of course we’ve got entertainment,” Derek says. “Have you not noticed the décor of this house?”

Dex looks around blankly. “Do you have a thing for decorative lizards?”

“No, but someone clearly does.”

Dex snorts. “I fail to see how this house is interesting.”

Derek lets out a gasp of mock outrage. “Dex! You wound me! Can’t you see that this house is the house of”- he lowers his voice- “ _cultured people_?”

“What do you mean?”

Derek waves a hand around the room. “Fossils stuck on the wall. Prints of boring landscapes. Fancy-ass books and expensive-looking bookends. Clearly these people are _worldly_ and _interesting_.”

“Of course,” Dex says. “I’m so glad you pointed this out to me. How could I not have noticed that these people are so much better than us?”

“You can’t help it, Dex,” Derek tells him solemnly. “You just really have to have an eye for these kinds of things.” The joke won’t be funny much longer if he stretches it out, so he changes the subject. “Food?” he asks hopefully, and Dex rolls his eyes but leads Derek in the direction of the kitchen anyway.

There’s a sizeable line to get food, so Derek and Dex each take a plate and fall in line, jostling each other a little bit as they jokingly fight to stand in line first.

“What else should I expect from these fun-filled festivities of food and frivolity?” Derek asks cheerfully, as the line advances.

Dex doesn’t acknowledge the alliteration, but he rolls his eyes a little again, which Derek counts as a win. “Well, you know Agatha, right?” Dex asks.

“Dude, I do not. Assume I know no one here.”

“She’s the hostess. You met her on the way in.”

Derek shrugs and ladles a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“Well, you _did_ ,” Dex insists. “Anyway, she makes everyone sing.”

“Sing?” Derek asks, appalled. “Please tell me I misheard you.”

“She makes everyone sing,” Dex repeats. “Christmas carols, naturally.”

“I may be in hell,” Derek says, pausing to grab a few scoops of mushy-looking fruit salad. “Scratch that, I’m definitely in hell.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Dex says, though he too looks revolted at the state of the fruit.

“I am never dramatic,” Derek insists. “And I’m not going to sing.”

“Well, you don’t have to sing, but it’ll be rude if you don’t at least _pretend_ to.” Dex cocks his head to the side as though remembering something unpleasant. “That’s what I did last year.”

Derek makes a face, partially at Dex and partially at the lumpy soup he’s considering adding to his plate. “I don’t know the words to Christmas carols,” he says, a little petulantly.

“She’ll give us sheet music with the lyrics on it,” Dex informs him, as they walk out of the kitchen to find seats. “We’ll pretend to sing. Don’t worry.”

“You’re the worst boyfriend in the world,” Derek says. “It’s your job to save me from these kind of moments.”

Dex just laughs. “Is it? I thought it was my job to make sure you share these cringey moments _with_ me. They build character.”

He has a point.

“You’re not honestly planning to sing, are you?” Derek asks a few minutes later, as they tuck into their plates.

“Just relax and let it go, Nursey,” Dex says, which is a profoundly unfair thing to say.

“I resent the fact that you just told me to relax,” Derek tells him, around a bite of bread. “I am always 100% relaxed, 100% of the time.”

Dex gives him a fondly exasperated look and takes a sip of champagne, clearly choosing not to comment.

"No offense," Derek says, moving his fork through the pile of mush on his plate, "but what is it with white people and casseroles?"

Dex laughs so hard he appears to get champagne up his nose.

"Seriously," says Derek, now holding up a forkful of some beige-colored food. "Doesn't this look vile?"

Dex takes a minute to catch his breath after he laughs. Derek loves that about him. "I wouldn't know," he says. "I can't eat most casseroles. Gluten.”

“You’re not missing out on much,” Derek grumbles, letting his fork clatter to his plate.

Dex smiles good-naturedly and takes another sip of champagne.

The rest of the meal passes without incident, until Agatha- a woman whom Derek is sure he’s never met in his life, despite Dex’s insistence that they’ve been introduced- accosts the two of them at the dessert table.

“How have you boys been enjoying the food?” she asks.

Derek does not enjoy being called a _boy_ \- he is a mature, rational adult, clearly- but he lets it go. “It’s been wonderful,” he tells her, studiously avoiding making eye contact with Dex. “Dinner was _superb_. We’re getting dessert now.”

Agatha beams at them. “Growing boys eat a lot. I remember when my son was in college, he would eat just about anything he could get his hands on. And William has told me that you boys are athletes!”

It takes Derek an embarrassingly long moment to remember that Dex’s first name is Will.

“We are,” Derek says. “Dex- that is, William- and I play hockey together.”

Agatha smiles even more widely. “Growing boys _and_ athletes! William has told me that you play for the same team?”

Dex snorts, but mercifully manages not to laugh.

“We do,” Derek says.

“And I think William said that you two are- boyfriends, I think, if I remember the term he used. Not, uh, friends. Isn’t that something?”

Derek can absolutely not think of a proper response to that, so he doesn’t try.

Thankfully, Agatha breaks the uncomfortable silence by asking, “Have you tried my pumpkin pie?”

Derek looks at Dex.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Dex says, managing to sound disappointed, though the pumpkin pie is another pile of bland mush that looks inedible. “I can’t eat gluten, unfortunately, so most desserts are out of the question. It looks great, though.”

Agatha looks momentarily stymied, but recovers quickly. “You have to try my brownies!” she insists, scooping brownies out of a pan and lumping them unceremoniously on their plates. She gives them each two. Derek really wishes she wouldn’t. “They’re gluten-free _and_ dairy-free.”

This is a very kind gesture, so Derek and Dex each meekly take a bite of their brownies.

"This sure is something," Dex says, as he finishes a corner of the brownie. "It's- well, I don't have the words."

"Like biting into a Tempurpedic pillow," Derek says seriously.

Dex's face twitches, but he takes another bite of brownie and holds back his laugh.

Agatha just smiles blandly at them and leaves, mumbling something about going to get the music.

“This brownie is the worst thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life,” Derek says under his breath, as the two of them retake their seats in the living room, “and I’ve watched all three Sharknado movies.”

Dex’s shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“I’ve never eating anything with this texture before,” Derek says truthfully. “Also, wow, ‘Isn’t that something?’ I mean, points to her for not being, like, blatantly homophobic in front of us, but wow.” He opens his mouth to say more, but Dex cuts him off.

"Quick, take another bite of brownie," Dex says, something akin to panic in his voice, as Agatha does another lap through the room, carrying a basket full of booklets and handing them out to the other guests.

Derek would rather swallow cement than eat another bite of that brownie, and he tells Dex this.

"You need to keep your mouth occupied," Dex hisses, already stuffing more food into his mouth. "Otherwise she'll make you sing Christmas carols."

Derek puts the whole brownie in his mouth.

Agatha passes by them, says, "I'm so glad you're enjoying the food, boys," and continues her circle through the room, stopping to hand out booklets of sheet music to the other guests, none of whom had the foresight to pretend to still be eating.

Someone starts playing the piano, loudly and badly, and the carols begin.

Derek really, really wishes he had something stronger than champagne to drink.

* * *

An hour later, Derek has had enough of Christmas carols. He quietly stands up, takes Dex by the hand, and pulls him out of the room, mumbling something about looking at the snow when Agatha asks where they’re going.

"What are you doing?" Dex asks, as Derek leads them both outside to the freezing cold patio.

"Well, I want to kiss you-"

"Okay," says Dex quickly.

"No, give me a second," Derek says, and Dex looks at him eagerly, expectantly. "I really want to kiss you, but first I have to say this cheesy line. I have to get it out of my system. I've been thinking about it this entire time."

Dex's face changes to a wary expression.

"Remember the brownie?"

Dex nods, and tilts his head a little bit to the side. He has a very nice jaw in the dim outside light. It’s snowing lightly and Derek thinks that it probably could be a lovely, romantic moment between the two of them, but he plows on anyway.

"So that Agatha woman gave us brownies,” Derek says. “And you said we had to eat them so we wouldn't have to sing carols?"

Dex nods again, expression blank.

"Well, I've thought of something else we could do to keep our mouths occupied," Derek says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Dex laughs so hard that his whole body shakes. It almost sounds like he's dying.

"That’s the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Dex says, once he calms down.

"Yeah?" Derek asks.

"Yeah," says Dex, stepping even closer to Derek. The snow is catching to his hair and eyelashes and it’s the prettiest thing Derek has ever seen.

“It worked though, didn’t it?”

“I want the record to reflect that I’m only going to kiss you so that you stop talking,” Dex says, laughing too much to sound even remotely serious.

“Fine by me,” Derek says.

Dex has to pull away several times while they kiss because he’s giggling too hard to keep kissing, so Derek thinks he can count the night as a success.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Michael Bublé's song "Cold December Night" which is, arguably, the best Christmas song in existence. 
> 
> This entire thing is shamelessly based on a Real and Horrible Christmas party I went to a few days ago that included forced Christmas caroling. It was also an excuse to write what the boys would be like together in public - chirping and flirting 24/7. 
> 
> Random HCs I got while writing this fic but couldn't fit in there: Dex has Celiac disease. Nursey is vegetarian. Dex has a job that he hates but is about to quit after the New Year! Nursey is not Christian. No one likes casseroles, because casseroles are fucking gross. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr @pensgame. Come say hi!


End file.
